Monday, July 24, 2017

Today’s hymn-line comes from another one of those lilting
6/8-metered tunes so familiar to the congregations in my part of the country.
Throughout its stanzas, this hymn repeats the phrase “there is never…” applied to many ‘downer’ occurrences, all of
which are tended to by the wonderful, wonderful Jesus.

Extreme grief and overwhelming loss may weigh us down more
than we realize. In fact, the admission of these is often denied by people
going through such emotions. Beneath such a great burden, this hymn-line
reminds us that Jesus is available to lighten the load if we but give him the
opportunity – yea, even the privilege!

Implants are routinely done nowadays: devices that help send
electronic impulses to the brain when certain body parts can’t respond naturally
on their own. The most common is the pacemaker for the heart. In this hymn’s refrain,
Anna B. Russell reminds us that in the
heart he implanteth a song… because songs tend to turn our attention away
from our difficulties, at least for a time. According to the refrain’s text,
the implanted song is one of deliverance,
of courage, of strength. In times of grief and loss, that’s the kind of
song we need to hear… and to sing!

Whatever bothersome cargo you carry today, may this hymn or
another great song of faith lift your spirit as he lightens your load. With a
6/8 lilt, let’s go skipping through the day!

Thursday, July 20, 2017

It is a real shame that this hymn is mostly remembered as
what the band was playing when the Titanic went down and is typically relegated
to memorial services and funerals. The haunting, usually-slowly-sung hymn has
some wonderful brief phrases worth recounting. It speaks of steps leading into
heaven, angels beckoning us homeward, thoughts brightened with praise… and references
to the Jacob’s ladder-dream (Genesis 28:12).

My outstanding word in this hymn-line for today is “still.”
It’s a great word we use when we mean “after all this time.” I suppose that’s
one of the reasons it is associated with funerals or end-of-life events.

Job uses this word many times in his defense against those
who encourage him to turn from his God, such as in chapter 13, verse 15: “Though
he take away my life, still will I hope in him.” (Some translations use the
word ‘yet,’ meaning the same as ‘still.’)

It is that kind of continuing steadfastness to which we all
aspire – those of us who seek to be faithful followers of the Lamb. It is our
intention to come to the end of our days, still using the word “still”! Of
course, you know that I’m going to love this line because it says that my song shall still be, “Let me be
nearer, my God, to thee.”

One of my top-ten favorite hymns is “Draw Me Nearer.” Many
of you know that one, and it will come up more than once on these blogs! I find
myself singing it many mornings while I’m getting ready – out loud if no one
else is in the house! It truly is my sincere prayer for every day – to edge a
bit closer to my blessed Lord and to the cross where he died.

This Sunday when you stand to sing in worship - whatever your
musical style - realize that your praises of the crucified, risen Christ are still genuine – after all these years.
May ALL our songs still continue to
draw us nearer to the One who is now on heaven’s throne at the top of those
steps where angels beckon us to come. May our thoughts and attitudes truly still be brightened with his praise.

Try your best to stop thinking of this as a hymn about a
mighty ship going down; rather consider a mighty church rising up in praise, still moving nearer to one another and
their Leader.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

One of the newest texts I’m going to cover on this blog is
from one of my heroes of modern hymn-writing: Fred Pratt Green, a British
Methodist minister who penned some wonderfully meaningful texts which are easy
to comprehend the first time you sing them – a goal of anyone who writes songs for
congregational use. If you have a hymnal published in the past thirty years, it
would be worth your time to read through the full text; for copyright reasons,
I shouldn’t print it here.*

Life itself is ours on
lease. These six words communicate so much about how our life is not our
own; it is loaned to us for a brief period then returned to its owner – our owner
– God himself. Green’s British turn of phrase here “ours on lease” brings even
more emphasis to ownership.

While much of hymnody (especially the gospel songs from the
first half of the 20th Century) point us toward our eternal life - our
heavenly home - this one centers our attention back on our current situation.
This life I call MINE is truly not mine at all! I need to be reminded of that
now and then to keep me from getting what my mama called ‘the big head.’
Arrogance or self-confidence can blur our vision of who we really are;
humble gratefulness can re-center our understanding of ourselves and of Jehovah…
whose very name means ‘giver of life.’

In this world I’m driving a “loaner.”

One day it reverts to its owner.

No debt to repay,

So each day I say:

My God, he’s a wonderful donor!

Not nearly as poetic as Green, but you get the point! [I
think that may be my first-ever limerick!]

By its very definition, a lease is temporary… and the owner
is compensated as part of the agreement. In the case of our contract with God,
HE has paid the price, and WE enjoy the benefit. That is the opposite of our
usual understanding of how a lease works.

Okay, fellow lessors: contact your Lessee today. Thank him
for affording you the privilege of life. While you’re at it, you may need to
renew your lease!

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

This rip-roaring, toe-tapping gospel song has enjoyed
popularity since it first appeared in print in the early 20th
Century. Because it is a fun tune with lots of repetition in the melody, it
caught on quickly and stuck… and is still used commonly in evangelical worship.

As is true of so many hymns, this one emerged from the soul
of Rufus McDaniel in response to a tragedy – the death of his son. It’s hard
for us to believe that such a positive set of words could be prompted by a
season of grief and loss – especially set to such a lively tune by Charles H.
Gabriel, one of the most prolific tunesmiths of the time; we are most familiar
with his “I Stand Amazed in the Presence.”

We have a hint at McDaniel’s loss in another stanza of “Since
Jesus Came into My Heart” with

There’s a light in the valley of death now
for me…

And the gates of that city beyond I can
see…

I shall go there to dwell in that
city, I know.

The thing that stands out to me in today’s hymn-line is
being possessed by hope… owned by, mastered by, controlled by hope.
What a wonderful thought. But each time I sing that line, I have to ask myself,
“Am I?” Does my steadfast, secure hope truly shape all of my thinking and
doing? Am I constantly motivated by a hopeful attitude? I mine the kind of hope
that is confidently expectant?

When many of us hear the word ‘possessed,’ our minds go to
something evil… probably because we grew up with movies like The Exorcist! But here, possession is a
good thing!

Possessed is closely akin the word obsessed… but this is a
glorious obsession!

The term fanatic has been cast in a negative light; we are
always concerned when someone becomes fanatical about an idea or a cause. It
is, of course, the shortening of this word which is our word “fan”… and we are
surrounded by fanatics when any sports season is in full swing! A true,
obnoxious fan is obsessed with his/her team or celebrity figure… possessed…
owned by, mastered by, controlled by.

Without being obnoxious, I want to be a person possessed by
great hope… secure faith… firm belief. I certainly don’t want to become
hope-less. And I won’t become despairing if my confidence is steadfast and sure – not because I have conjured
it up, but because Jesus came into my heart… and he continues to do that just when I need him most.

This is a fine example of a good old gospel song – a peppy,
fun-to-sing one at that! We have sometimes separated our congregational songs
intohymns, gospel songs, praise
choruses, scripture songs… and now, even rap. But this is truly a “gospel” song
because it is based from one of the great stories told by Jesus from the fifteenth chapter of
the Gospel of Luke, that section which features the three parables of ‘the lost’:
a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son – all three of which are eventually
found, making them parables with happy endings!

There are several songs based from stories in the
Gospels: “Master, the Tempest Is Raging” tells of Jesus’ calming of the sea,
and “The Ninety-and-Nine” recounts the first of these parables from Luke 15. “Ring
the Bells of Heaven” alludes to all three of the lost-parables, but it is
mostly about the story of the young man we have always called the Prodigal Son… the weary, wand’ring child, a soul
returning from the wild, a soul rescued from his sinful ways, a precious soul
who’s born again.

We’ve all heard plenty – maybe too many – sermons and Bible
studies based on this story of the son who demands his inheritance only to
waste it on ‘riotous living’ which includes all those sins we were instructed
to stay shy of in the beginners Sunday School class. He comes to his senses and
heads home, unsure of how he will be received. It is upon his trip home that
the “surprise” of this short story happens. The rising action turns to the
father and his over-the-top re-acceptance of the long-lost son who has been
incommunicado.

In
the Bible story, my favorite line is “And while he was
still a long way off, his father saw him…” That sentence speak volumes
about
the nature of God’s relationship with us; even when we wander off as far
as we’ve
ever been, when we turn toward home, God sees us… and is “filled with
compassion for” us. (v. 20) This is why many people now call this the
Parable of the Loving Father instead of the Parable of the Prodigal Son.

Today's hymn-line begins with the word ‘see’ – as if to say
"notice." It’s kind of like when something turns out the way someone else said it
would, they say to you, “See, I told you so.” If the line didn’t have to be so
poetic as to fit a 11.9.11.9 metrical scheme, it could have been, “Get this! The
father meets him…”

Perhaps
too much has been made of the father’s
un-Jewish-man-like uncharacteristically running down the long dusty
driveway, but he certainly
wasted no time meeting the wandering child --arms stretched wide open,
offering a strong hug -- and walking him the rest of the way
to the house.

We’ll get to "see on
the portals he’s waiting and watching" in another hymn-line later, but bring
that picture to mind. Got it? Now see him jump off the porch… probably avoiding
the steps… and rushing toward the now-happy wanderer – knapsack on his back –
singing “Val-deri, val-dera.”-- Oops. Sorry. Wrong song! In this case, he may be singing “Glory! Glory! How the
angels sing. Glory! Glory! How the loud harps ring.”

I am often drawn to very old hymn texts like this one from
the 8th Century. Fortunately, these have been translated from the
Latin for us to sing in our own tongue… for most of my readers, that would be
English!

This entire hymn is a sung prayer, and the line I have
pulled from it is one that seems to pop off the page whenever I’m in a service
where this hymn is sung – or even just reading through hymnals. Yes, I hate to
admit it, but I truly enjoy doing that!

In asking God to be the joy that lasts, continues, lives on,
we are imploring the continuation of the state of joy which is ours as
followers of him. The Bible never mentions the word ‘fun,’ but it uses the word
joy throughout… almost from cover to cover. Indeed, there are heights of joy at
which we find ourselves: at church camp, on prayer retreats, at intense times
of worship… at the birth of a child, the marriage of that grown-up child, the
birth of a grandchild. There are too many joys attached to our lives to begin
to make even a short list. But joy CAN be our perpetual state of being.

O Jesus, please be that joy that keeps on bubbling up within
us. Do not allow us to fall into hopeless despair.

The last phrase of this hymnline – “our ever great reward” –
seems to indicate that this joy that I have that the world didn’t give to me is
destined to be my eternal great reward. In fact, if the joy of the Lord that is
my everyday strength were my ONLY reward, it would be a good one to have experienced
and to have relished in this life. My belief system includes an afterlife
awaiting, and I am certain that life will be the culmination of this
life’s lasting joy, our ever great reward.

O Jesus, if joy were my only reward for being your follower,
that would be plenty. Let us more fully enjoy the joy.

From the Westminster Catechism, the first question: What is
the chief end of man? To glorify God and enjoy him forever.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Hymn:
"I've Found a Friend, O Such a Friend" - James G. Small (1817-1888)
Tune: FRIEND

From him who loves me now so well what pow'r my soul can sever?Shall life or death or earth or hell? No! I am his forever.

This is a longer hymn-line than usual, but I couldn't pare it down.

For just a moment, think back to a time when you realized that one of your
acquaintances had become a friend. Was it a slow process, or did it happen
fairly quickly? Did that friendship develop into a deep relationship, or did it
"cool down" with time? If this friendship has lasted for a long time,
then just now you should have felt a warmth in your spirit; you probably sensed a smile
come to your face.

This entire hymn is about Christ's constantly-developing friendship with those
of us who genuinely believe in him... who are working at the relationship from
our side as well. Again, the warmth -- the smile. (sigh)

This hymn-line happens to be the final two phrases of the text, and it turns
the following prose from Romans 8:35-39 into poetry:What shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress,
or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... No! In all
these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For
I am persuaded , that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor
powers, nor things present , nor things to come , nor height, nor depth, nor
any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is
in Christ Jesus our Lord.

When I sing this hymn-line, my favorite part is the word "No!"It
is one of those times when no is positive. It is not like a childish refusal to
eat vegetables; it is more akin to our use of "no way"... no way
that's gonna happen! In spite of everything, Christ and I are bound together
forever! (I'll give you a moment to reflect on that!)

I also think there is a significance to Small's use of the word
"now": From him who loves me now so well. In that
snippet, we are reminded that the love for Christ for us is in the here and now
- not only at the moment of our redemption, or into eternity... or even
yesterday. Right now, he is still working on his side of the friendship, loving
me so well. I need to reciprocate in kind.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

I got into trouble with this hymn one Sunday morning when I
was serving First Baptist Church in Kingston, Tennessee. It was the day after
the Tennessee Volunteers lost to Alabama in nearby Knoxville. Much to my embarrassment,
we stood and sang, “Look, there is flowing a crimson tide.” Yes, there was an
audible response from the congregation!

Today’s hymn-line points out a truth about ourselves that we
don’t necessarily want to face up to: we are sinful people by nature. We may be
able to hide/cover-up that embedded nature to our fellow humans, but we cannot
hide it from our all-knowing, all-seeing Maker.

I read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic novel The Scarlet Letter years ago and have
seen a couple of movies and stage plays based on the story. It would have been
a popular read during Julia Johnston’s life, so it may have played into her
writing of this hymn-line. That emblazoned “A” certainly comes to my mind every
time I sing this hymn.

After hearing a church-lady go on and on. complaining about a street
person who had attended a worship service in a downtown city church – how he
reeked of alcohol and tobacco – a very wise gentleman said to her, “I thank God
my sin doesn’t smell.”

All of us have sinned and continue to miss the mark; some of
us miss it less frequently than perhaps we used to! I am indeed glad that I am
not forced to have my shame embroidered on my clothing; I am equally glad that
my iniquity is not odorous. I am allowed to work out my sinfulness privately before
God.

Amazingly, there is a grace that flows like a crimson tide, cleansing even the darkest
stain left behind by our most grievous indiscretions. This marvelous, infinite, matchless grace is pouring forth freely from yonder on Calvary’s mount. We need to be
reminded of this.

So, walk past the cosmetics counter; stop trying to cover up
your sin blemishes. Head instead toward that Old Rugged Cross and allow
yourself to be covered once again by the outpoured grace that is greater than all our sin.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

This grand hymn calls us
all to combine our voices in song. I guess its title could have been tattooed across
my forehead for my ministry, because this is exactly what I was calling folks
to do – luring them to join the song of
the blessed.

British Artist: Ghislaine Howard

As we sing through this text,
all the phrases make sense; they’re all praise-y and typical-ish until we get
to today’s hymn-line. Condescend? Isn’t that a negative
word? Doesn’t that mean that he will talk down to us or treat us with disrespect?
In our vernacular, this is a patronizing word – not one I attach to the Savior
Christ. “Descend” I would automatically comprehend; but “condescend”? Not so
much.

I admit that I always take a
momentary time-out while I remind myself that this word (especially at the time
of its penning) can also mean to stoop, to lower oneself… or to use an even
more archaic word: deign.

“He humbled himself…”
(Philippians 2:8) He stooped to wash the feet of his disciples. He bent down
and blessed the children along his path. We have plenty of Bible-story
snapshots of the holiest-of-all bending to where the lowest-of-the-lowly were.

Recently, I heard Wayne
Watson sing these words from one of his greatest hits:

Jesus, he meets you
where you are.

Jesus,
he heals your broken scars.

All
the love you’re longing for,

All
the love you need is

Jesus,
the Friend of the wounded heart.

It’s that kind of sentiment
that I must admit when I sing “to us he’ll
condescend.” THEN I will not only understand what the word means, I
will experience what the word tells me about how Jesus treats me…
meeting me where I am, befriending my wounded heart.

Monday, July 10, 2017

Hymn: “There Is a Name I Love to Hear” - Frederick Whitfield (1829-1904)Tune: OH, HOW I LOVE JESUS

There are indeed earthly sorrows that no other human can help us carry. We know those sorrows – the loss of friends and family members, great career difficulties, the final implosion of a long relationship… and our personal list goes on and on, sometimes beyond anyone else’s imaginings. Because we keep that stiff upper lip and maintain the cheerful countenance, those around us may not even know that we need their help to shoulder the current load.

This One who first loved us, and about whom we sing of our love – he can take on any sorry we may hoist upon him and help us deal with it. He may even turn that sorrow into eventual joy.

My wife Carlita is terribly fond of a Rascal Flats song that talks about coming through difficulties into eventual joy: Every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars Pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true: That God blessed the broken road That led me straight to you.*

For most of us, there have been many broken roads – probably more broken dreams. Above all the stuff that seemed at the time to be broken, there stood a loving, observant, compassionate Savior. And as soon as he saw that the sorrow was about to weigh us down and make us immobile, he changed positions and came underneath us to bear the part that none can bear in this life.

Upon comprehending his help and feeling the weight somewhat lifted, we have no other refrain to sing but: O how much I love Jesus… because he first loved me.

Friday, July 7, 2017

First, let me say that I love this hymn… I love singing it
in worship and in private. It is so filled with hymn-lines that you’ll hear
from this hymn several times if you follow these posts!

At our house, we watch way too much television (Non-watchers:
do not send me condescending messages about this obvious addiction, and I’ll
try not to send you emails about yours!) and read too many newspapers and
magazines – so I am very much aware of the strongness of wrongness in our
world.

We watch a lot of detective/mystery shows… especially from
the BBC. I know those are made-up stories, but they are based in human nature –
the dark side of carnality.

But the news media communicates the realities of evil: the
rising head of wrong. I won’t begin making a list of all the human-instigated
tragedies; you know them as well as I. You and I share the shock of “breaking
news” stories, especially those which are human-upon-human. We shake our heads
and ask, “What’s wrong with the world?” I wish I had a nickel for every time
Carlita has said while watching the evening news, “That is just wrong!” I have no choice but to agree
with her.

We can – and do – become overcome with reports of evil
lurking about us, splashed onto our flat-screens and across our sheets of un-bleached
newsprint. When bad behavior tends to asphyxiate me, I have to breathe in once
again the reality of my faith - to bring back to the top of my mind that this
IS my Father’s world, dang it… he is still the Ruler thereof. How easy that is
to forget.

He is also that by which goodness is measured… that kind of
ruler! I only remember a few lines from my earliest French vocabulary
exercises; in one of them, we held up a one-foot flat wooden strip saying, “Voici
mon règle.” Fifty years later in
life, I need to say that more often: “Here is my ruler.” This is how I’m going
to determine right from wrong. Better yet, “God is my ruler.”

We humans have a tendency toward forgetfulness. We can only
point out others’ sins when we are able to forget our own. When in the midst of
great difficulty, we tend to forget the great promises of God. We basically
forget whose we are. We are children of the King… the Ruler of
the earth. After all, this IS my Father’s world.

As you move through today, don’t let evil get you down – don’t
allow the Evil One to grab your attention away from the Good One – the Lord God
himself.

Although the wrong may
often seem so strong, let me never forget that God is still the Ruler.

*- Not one of our most familiar hymn
writers, Babcock, an American, was a Presbyterian pastor, famous for his
oratory and beautifully
descriptive use of language and poetic devices in his sermons. This is
his only
hymn still in common use. It was published by his wife after his death,
so he
never heard it sung.

Thursday, July 6, 2017

This
rarely-used hymn has been omitted from most recent hymnals. The singing
of closing hymns that send the congregation out after corporate worship
has become a thing of the past but were commonly used in the worship of
our forebears. Nonetheless, this is one of those phrases that jumps out
at me when I DO have the opportunity to sing this text.

This hymn-line is a more poetic statement of "They'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love," and
quite honestly, we'd rather sing songs that are worded in a
straight-forward way... poetic or not. However, encouraging the
community of faith ("our communion") to make known their presence in the
world by being people of self-less love is a great way to dismiss the
flock.

In our social culture - especially American -
the concept of self-less-ness is one of the most difficult of Christ's
teachings for us to truly "get." Everything about media and the daily
buzz among our peers, our leaders, our coaches is self-promotive. We are
making ourselves the center of our universe. We hear the word
"entitled" applied to more and more individuals and groups.

This
hymn-line is a positive reminder to me - and hopefully you - that it is
not all about me... that it is when I forget about myself that I am
more Christ-like in my treatment of my fellow humans. In order to not be
Oprah-ized into self-centered thinking and behavior, I have to remind
myself of this constantly, more constantly than I should. When
self-less-ness becomes our natural mindset, we come closer to "arriving"
at that to which we are called.

May the faith community to which I belong be known around town as a group of self-forgetting, compassionate people.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Whatever happened to kindness? Whatever happened to
loving-kindness? When did rude and condescending become the norm? Or has it?

The opening line of this hymn describes the way Jesus
approaches us: in loving- kindness, with mercy, through grace. That pretty well
describes the Christ to whom I am attracted… still.

Stooping to scoop me up in his arms from
sinking sand – even sinking sand from which I have been rescued previously
and to which I too often return – THAT is the Savior I know and love… and
worship.

He doesn’t grab me up by the scruff, yanking me against my
will. It is rather with tender hands, soothing me and comforting even as I
struggle to be freed from the quagmire which so strenuously seeks to suck me
further downward.

I have many people to thank for showing kindness to me over
the years, but I have Hedy and Raymond to thank for teaching me the importance
of being kind… to extend that Christ-like loving-kindness. It was part of their
nature… and it is becoming mine… and in turn, my nature is turning more toward
Christ-like-ness.

Complaining, demanding one’s own way, whining – these are
not the qualities that others are drawn to. And if we intend to be attracting
people to our Lord, we must… absolutely MUST take on more of his kind nature.
Some of us would rather robe ourselves in holiness than immerse ourselves in
kindness. Wouldn’t some holy kindness be a possibility?

The next time I really want to be ‘mean,’ I need to remember
the first line of this hymn… and come at life with loving-kindness – not forced
nice-ness, but kind-hearted-ness which comes naturally because I am taking on
HIS nature.

Remember, it wasn’t that long ago you were up to your neck
in some kind of quicksand… and in
loving-kindness Jesus came along. Constant awareness of whence we came and
who brought us to where we are can make a real difference in our attitude,
turning us from cranky fault-finders to pleasant representatives of the One who
lifts us still.

Hymnlines - Hemlines: Get it?! :)

About Me

A native of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, went to high school with Dolly Parton... and am still friends with her sister Stella who was "most talented" with me in our graduating class of 1967! Was a Southern Baptist for most of my life,am currently affiliated with Cooperative Baptists. Have worked in Baptist and Presbyterian churches - basically consider myself a Baptiterian!

Love words (texts). Am a published hymn-writer, anthem-text writer and composer. Into live theater, museums and antique stores. Enjoy good movies and PBS dramas.

Married to Carlita - Two bonus sons: Dustin,and Clint and his wife Sherry with our two grandsons Kyle and Carson who just happen to live close by!